The Red Stroke
by FaithB
Summary: Set after Dirty Girls, S7 spoilers, Buffy and Faith have a little talk about love, Spike and Faith's role in Sunnydale. UPDATED 2011! REVIEWS WANTED - To be continued.
1. Red Stroke

**THE RED STROKE**

SUMMARY: Set after Dirty Girls, S7 spoilers, Buffy and Faith have a little talk about Faith's role in Sunnydale. REVISED!

RATING: PG

DISTRIBUTION: email me

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Sunnydale, CA. 6:43 P.M. - The Summer's Home Foyer

"You were out." Buffy observed from the living room archway. Her arms were folded and expression deadpan as a very battered Spike exhaustedly pushed the front door shut and ambled into the Summers home. He looked up at Buffy with a sort of childlike bewilderment.

"Yeh," Spike shook his head, "took a walk." He glanced around the room, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "Where is everybody?

"In the backyard. Training, or headed back there at least." She shrugged a little and bit the corner of her mouth, "So, you were gone? I mean there was worry….and talk of worry." Buffy returned Spike's anxiousness, her eyes moving around the room to avoid his gaze. She walked towards him, only to pass him and pull a small, silver key from her pocket.

"Walk. Said so, didn't I?"

"Yeah, just the timing is all." She locked the door and looked back up at Spike, who was already walking towards the kitchen. She slipped they key back into her pocket into her pocket and followed after Spike, calling to him, "So Faith, huh? That was quick."

Spike turned to look over his shoulder, confusion creasing his brow. "You feelin' awright, Summers?"

"Never better."

"Mind lettin' me in on the gag, then?"

"Just that it didn't take you very long to get over me." Buffy replied a bit bitterly as Spike turned back to face her, still standing in the archway between the dining room and the foyer.

"Sorry, Luv," Spike sighed warily,"you're gonna have t'spell it out f'me better than that." He moved towards her, already losing patience with this line of questioning.

"You. Faith. This isn't a riddle…" Buffy's voice seemed cold and voice distant.

"Friends, that's it. Scout's bleeding honor. I can relate to the girl is all, thought you'd be bristling' t'have me outta your hair?" Spike tilted his head ever so slightly as he spoke.

Buffy sighed softly and shook her head, her whole demeanor softening. "I guess I just don't want you to get hurt . I mean, Faith's sorta notorious for that kinda thing."

Spike bit his lip and glanced down with an acrimonious whisper, "Beat her to it, Luv."

"So this is, what?" Buffy whispered, her worlds rattled with spite, "Revenge? You do Faith and I feel bad, maybe I cry? Maybe I give in? Maybe you get what you want?"

"Maybe you ought to look around, Pet." He returned her whisper through a clenched jaw, growling a bit in warning. "We're not all trees swayin' to 'urricain Buffy. You've got some real growing up to do." With that Spike turned and walked into the kitchen, Buffy following close behind.

"Don't you dare walk away from me…" Buffy barked at Spike as she entered the room, grabbing for his shoulder. Spike spun around to face her, tearing his arm away. He bit back his demon, his human facade strained and riddled with a demonic countenance.

"When are you gonna be done with me?" Spike shouted at Buffy, both of them unaware of the looks they were getting from the Slayer's in Training as they slipped out into the backyard for a mock combat session.

Sunnydale, CA. 6:33 P.M. - The Summers Home Kitchen

Faith shook the last bagel bite out of a box marked "Andrew's" and popped it into her mouth whole, not bothering to heat it up or even thaw it out. She hopped up onto the island, perching there and staring absently out the kitchen window, or possibly at it, she didn't pay much attention to what she was seeing.

She didn't notice Buffy's speech in the kitchen, or the SIT's filing out into the backyard like a chain gang, some giggling, some brooding, others looking more confused then anything. Faith didn't even notice Andrew come into the kitchen until she felt a sharp but weak jab on her arm.

"That specifically said Andrews!" Andrew whined, bobbing up and down in one place a few feet from where Faith sat, reminding her of some kind of annoying buoy.

"Lay off, shit machine. I'm hungry, this is food, I eat food. Deal with it." Faith responded, returning Andrew's punch to him.

Andrew squeaked and rubbed his arm, his back arched a little from pain. "Owww…this is so not fair..."

She scoffed and slid off of the counter, walking around a very protestant Andrew on her way to the door. Her hand was practically on the knob when she heard her name in conjunction with a massive amount of angry mumbling coming from the behind her. "What the hell did I do now?" Faith grunted under her breath as Spike stalked angrily into the kitchen, Buffy in his wake.

"Don't you dare walk away from me…" Buffy barked at Spike as she entered the room, grabbing for his shoulder. Spike spun around to face her, tearing his arm away. He bit back his demon, his human facade strained and riddled with a demonic countenance.

"When are you gonna be done with me?" Spike shouted at Buffy, both of them unaware of the looks they were getting from the Slayer's in Training as they slipped out into the backyard for a mock combat session.

"Uh, hello..." Faith sarcastically raised her hand a bit, "did I order the soap channel?"

Buffy glared at Spike who backed into the basement door, pushing it open and dissapearing inside. The door slammed behind him. Buffy winced as the door snapped loudly into it's frame and turned slowly to look at Faith, "Pack."

Sunnydale, CA. 7:27 P.M. - The Summers Home Dining Room

"So what, that's it?" Faith snorted, her expression a mixture of anger and confusion, "You say scoot and away I go? Are you, like, on the rag or somethin'?" The bitterness she felt towards Buffy was more than obvious. Even she hadn't expected this from Buffy. Oh she knew Buffy would throw a hissyfit when she found out that She and Spike had been spending time together, but nothing had happened. At least, nothing physical. Yet.

Buffy sulked as she made her way from the dining room into the foyer, Faith on her heels, "That's my brilliant plan."

Faith watched a bit helplessly as Buffy began to ascend the staircase, barking at her accusingly, "Don't think I don't get what you're doin'. Can't pull this ass crap on me, I know you to well."

Buffy stopped on the first landing and turned to look at Faith, "Enlighten me."

"C'mon, Buff, you're kinda a one-note tune." Faith's eyes narrowed a bit and she shrugged, "…You want me gone. Nothin' new there. So what's different? Gotta ask myself that, have actually. Came up with the answer."

"Are you coming to a point anytime soon?"

Faith frowned and folded her arms, "You want me gone now….because you want him…"

"No, I want you gone because you cause problems, Faith." Buffy's words were stinging with venom. "Everywhere you go, everything you do has to be some big challenge of authority, and I don't have time for it. And yeah, Spike's distracted because of you…he's gotten sloppy, and I can't afford to have him protecting you during a fight instead of…"

"You." Faith cut Buffy off. "Instead of you."

"Instead of doing what he's here for." Buffy let out little sad, painful chuckle, "I can't watch you all every second. We're in the middle of a war, Faith." she sighed exhaustedly, "a war, can you even conceive of that?"

"Yeah." Faith leaned back against the wall near the stairs and sighed, "I get it. Hell, that's what I'm here for. I just think this threatened cat routine's gettin' kinda old, kinda fast. I don't want your mouse."

"I am not threatened…" Buffy gritted her teeth, the fingernails on her left hand digging into her palm. With strain her voice calmed a bit, "Look, stay if you want, but if Spike gets killed because he's watching your back..."

Faith's expression fell, her demeanor becoming bleak. "Never gonna happen, B."

"He might. Spike's...well, he doesn't think that clearly to start with. But it's different...worse when…" Buffy trailed off and sat on the second step from the bottom of the staircase, her arms folded around herself as if to keep out a chill.

"When?" Faith echoed, sinking down the wall to sit on the floor and look up at Buffy.

Buffy sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. She looked a little desperate, reluctantly letting the words spill out of her. "When he's in love…"

Faith curled her arms around her knees and shrugged, "You act like you hate it. Remind me to skip you on Valentine's day."

"Not me." Buffy scooted down onto the bottom step and craned her neck to look at Faith. "You."

TO BE CONTINUED-


	2. Back Off

**Back Off**

- Sunnydale, CA. 8:23 P.M. - The Summer's Home Basement -

"Stupid, bloody..." Spike mumbled against the mouth of the bottle and let his head fall back against the wall, taking another swig. He sat alone in the dark, on what barely passed for his bed in the basement, nursing a bottle of warm gin.

What right did Buffy have to treat him like that? Telling him who he could talk to, who he could fuck if it came to that? Treating him like dirt, always dirt beneath her feet. It was at times like this that his thoughts about the matter were clearest, that he saw Buffy for what she was. Utterly insane.

She didn't want to be with him, she'd told him that much, and he accepted it...on some level. In fact, for the majority of the last year, just living under the same roof as the girl, fighting along side her as an ally, as a friend, was enough for him. '_Was_' being the operative word in that sentence. He'd even come to accept his lot as harmless pet Spike, the vampire with no teeth, living in an unlivable basement in his ex-whatever's home like so much Fonzi. But the fact that he wasn't even allowed to associate with other women -, which was a bit on the impossible side, what with all the potential slayers in the house,- made his blood boil. Metaphorically speaking.

Letting Buffy have at him about anything she pleased had become a ritual, almost a mantra in it's frequencey, and had always been welcomed by him as a sign of unspoken affection. He let her bitch and twist the truth, and occasionally, her violence would break her skin and leave a tangible scar on his flesh. These were the moments he'd craved for so many years, the moments when he felt her devotion to him rip into the real world; when she'd claim him again, and let him know,in no uncertain terms, that he was _hers_. He used to look forward to that, and he could see it coming, rising up in her like mercury until she shattered and took him with her.

So what changed? The moment this throught passed through his mind, kitchen light flooded the staircase for a moment as the door quietly opened and closed. Spike looked up. Bump-toed black boots squeaked on old stairs followed by shapely, though stubby, denim-clad legs and a few moments later a very confused looking slayer stood on the bottom step. An answer.

"Come to say g'bye?" Spike asked, biting back something in his tone that Faith entirely missed. He downed another swig from his bottle and sighed, resting it on his thigh and rolling his head a bit to get the kinks out of his neck.

She arched a shoulder back and walked over to sit on the edge of Spike's cot with a soft but contented grunt. She crossed her legs, "You think I'm goin' somewhere?"

"Come to think of it, probably not." He lifted a cigarette out of the sawed off bottom of a Pepsi can he'd been using for an ashtray. He took a drag, "Don't seem like the running away type."

"Got that right."

Spike glanced up at Faith, his eyes stark and serious, "Maybe it'd be better f'you if you were."

"Why's that?" She smirked broadly, even defiantly at him and leaned closer as if her next words might be whispered. They weren't, "You think Buffy's got any threats I haven't heard before?" Spike was silent and Faith pursed her lips with realization. She moved back and sat upright, her hands resting on her thighs, "Her Knight in shining armor."

"You sound disappointed?" He slurred past his cigarette, not knowing how to answer her statement with the truth.

Faith plucked Spike's cigarette out of his mouth and took a drag, "Just testing the waters." She flicked the end of the cigarette, and let it's ashes spray onto the floor next to Spike's bed, "I'm ballsy, not headless."

His gaze lifted, their eyes meeting casually, "Meaning?"

She half rolled her eyes and took another puff, "_Meaning_ I read you loud and clear." Faith twisted her lips for a moment, "Contrary to Buff-pular belief, I know when to back off."

Spike took his cigarette back and started grinding it into the ashtray, "Who wants you to back off?" He asked cautiously, his eyes darting up to glance at her before returning to his task.

Faith's brows knit together with confusion. She glanced around the room without moving her head, "You do..?"

A small, wry grin stretched Spike's face, "I don't remember saying that."

"Uh huh. You don't want me to back off, but I should leave for my own good." Faith responded flatly, sarcastically as she leaned back enough to scoot one of her ankles under her butt, "Makes so much sense when I say it in order like that."

"No, "He shook his head, "I didn't mean that...it's just _you_, you mess with my 'ead, girl.

A chuckle came from the Slayer who'd long since lit her own cigarette, "Because you were The Science Guy before I came down here."

"You mess with my 'ead," He reiterated insistently, "I'm not used to feelin'.."

"Yeah, me either." Faith sighed and got to her feet with a heavy, old-lady grunt. She walked across the room, lifting her arms up to stretch them and let them rest across the top of her head, "So what now?"

To Be Continued.


End file.
